Monologue
by darkesteies
Summary: A lil one-shot of Trish's thoughts. My first fic ever! Be gentle! thanx)


The city is quiet tonight.

The night sky is dark and cold, and the moon is a pale face against a bed of jewels.

The wind is picking up again. I can smell demons off to the east, but nothing that requires my immediate attention. Dante is handling some of the big guns tonight; he'll call me if he needs the help. Partners never abandon each other, but we respect each others' space. And he is a man.

Yet he is very guarded around me. But that is no surprise considering I have seen the pictures of his mother. I wear her face. She was beautiful, and the picture Dante paints of her is beautiful as well.

I've not known much of beauty, but I know his love for her is unlike anything I've ever seen. Since Mallet Island, I've seen much of the world and all that it contains, but love is something unfamiliar to me. Hell only held hate and fear and pain for me. They were my purpose to the silver-haired devil hunter in red. I was supposed to destroy him, and yet here I am now, his partner in destroying that from which I came. Maybe it is a sign that I am changing. For what, I don't know.

The stench of evil from the east grows stronger, and I abandon my perch atop the tallest skyscraper in the city. "Time to get rolling", as Dante would say, but the sixty-story drop is exhilarating, and I feel the grin spread over my face. It feels like flying.

I land on the sidewalk and break into a run down Slum Avenue, never once breaking stride. My demonic powers have never failed me, even here on Earth. I like to use them to every possible advantage, especially when I am sending my disowned brethren back to their places in Hell. Every time I kill one, I feel a sense of peace. I know that I am doing the right thing, regardless of what my instincts tell me. Dante tells me it is just my demon side rebelling against my actions. Perhaps he is right. But nonetheless, I still fight the good fight.

I draw the sword _Alastor_ from its sheath on my back as I draw the attention of a few marionettes. The puppets on their strings dance for their master, much like I once did. As I feel the creatures fall beneath my blade, my heart soars. I am born of rage and violence, and I am in my element, now. But I have control.

Left, right, dodge, swing. Duck, stab. It is like an eerie dance. A blade makes it way past my defenses, and I can feel the blade sing against the bare skin of my stomach. Damn, does that hurt. But I continue to wage my own battle and soon I am victorious. Perfect. I check my wound and watch it fade in seconds beneath a net of yellow static. As good as my intentions are, I am still a demon. I've already made sure Dante will do the right thing by me, should that day come when I succumb to the darkness. The only catch? That I would do the same for him.

A red mouth opens up between the fabric of time and space, and I watch as more puppets, and this time a Sin Scythe, emerge. Damn it. The witch slinks it way behind the marionettes, and snaps it's scissors once, twice, three times. _I see you_, it tells me. Oh yes, I see you, too.

My twin .45's appear in my hands and begin to open fire. They are nothing like Ebony and Ivory,I should call them Dante's children.He takes care of them like they were his babies, but they treat him good. But mine do the job quite well.

I aim and feel the jolt of the guns run up my arms, through my shoulders. I can see the bullets race out of the barrels in almost slow motion, and I know the demons are no match for me now. I am confident of my skill. After all, I know exactly where to hit them hardest.

I draw _Alastor_ and slash the bodies of the demons while firing with my left gun. The result turns my enemies to ribbons. I like to call that one "dance with the devil". Effective and fun all at the same time. I'm learning things from Dante, such as the thing called fun. It's invigorating.

The final demon falls at my feet and collapses into a pile of dust. That's all they ever did, was fall to my feet. The wind carried the sand away and I watch it swirl and eddy in the night sky. The air is clear again. I can't help but smile; this was what I was born to do. The purpose of my new human existence. Perhaps I can get used to this, in time. Ah, well. Time to head back to the shop. Maybe Dante is waiting for me. Maybe not.

But who knows.


End file.
